BEER AND ROSES

I bought two roses

and illegal lager in the park.

You donned your street persona,

told the dealer man

we didn't want them frozen,

 

then later, at the campsite

it all seemed a recipe for love:

the chalet with pastel walls,

a balcony rail over glittering sea.

 

But now you don't want roses,

the chalet's lost its charm,

that restaurant rice is tasteless

and you most definitely

can't tolerate these insects.

 

Tonight we got some neighbours:

an invasion of doors and lights.

Their mud-dog in the bathroom

left prints that won the argument.

 

South Bank Poetry, March 2020, Editor Katherine Lockton.